


Sharing Space

by salanderjade (whowhatsitwhich)



Category: The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-08-01
Packaged: 2018-02-11 06:48:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2058015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whowhatsitwhich/pseuds/salanderjade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pain doesn't go away, Katniss, you just make room for it. Some days, you'll be fine but there'll be others where you want to crawl in a closet and hide. If you give in, it takes ten times longer to put yourself back together."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sharing Space

 

Sharing Space

 _"In all our searching, the only thing we've found that makes the emptiness bearable is each other."_  Carl Sagan

Katniss Everdeen turned twenty-six the day they put her sister in the ground. From that moment, the world turned gray. All colors faded, weathered and worn, until there was nothing left. A pearl sky, fog shrouded hours, opalescent moments drifting one into the other. They were broken only by black, glorious infinite black where she didn't have to see and remember.

There were instances that cracked her perfect serenity and let cruel reality seep in. It curled icy tendrils around her heart and mind, pulled her pain to the fore and made her acknowledge it. And she ached. Oh God, how she ached. Part of her was gone, maybe the best part, and without it she was a shadow. Time moved on but she did not. She. Just. Stopped.

Johanna was the first one to break her self-imposed exile, rudely pounding on the door until she opened it. "You look like hell," she announced without preamble. "Go get cleaned up. We're going out. You need to see something other than these four walls." It was an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object as Johanna refused to give up while Katniss refused to give in. But something had to give eventually and that something was Katniss. She sank to her knees, holding her head in her hands as sobs wracked her body. "What can I do? How can I help?" Johanna pleaded. "Just tell me."

"Leave," she rasped, wrapping her arms around her knees as she tucked herself into a tight ball in the corner. Johanna watched for a moment, anguish twisted her features into a harsh mask before she left, slamming the door behind her.

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Gale came next. He used her spare key, slipping in on silent feet. He found her slumped in the hall, hair hanging in a matted tangle down her back, gray eyes wide and staring. "Catnip," he sat the covered dish he'd brought on a side table and crouched down beside her. "Katniss, it's Gale. What are you doing down here? Are you alright?" She didn't even twitch until he laid his hand on her shoulder. "I brought you something to eat. C'mon, let's go to the kitchen. Ma said I wasn't to leave here until you ate and had a shower."

"Don't want to," Her voice was hoarse and creaky from disuse, her eyes red and swollen. "Just leave it and go."

The tall man settled back on his haunches and gave her an exasperated look. "I can't lie to Ma, Catnip, not even for you. Now, we can do this the hard way or the easy way. It's up to you. Either way, you're going to get up, eat your soup, and then you're going to go take a bath. How long has it been?"

She swayed to her feet, bracing herself on the wall as she staggered toward the kitchen. Gale watched her to make sure that she was cooperating, then picked up the vat of soup and followed her into the other room. She was sitting in a corner chair when he entered, watching through slitted eyes as he put the pan on the stove and turned the burner on low. "You can't do this," he said abruptly as he took a seat across from her. "You can't curl up and hide from the world and expect us to stand idly by while you destroy yourself."

Those leaden eyes sparked with the first reaction he'd seen since entering her apartment. Anger followed swiftly by bone deep sadness contorted her features. "I can't," she whispered brokenly. "She was the only one left, Gale, the only person who loved me. She died and I wasn't there. I told her I'd be there no matter what and I wasn't."

"She wasn't the only one that loved you," He grated out through clenched teeth. "And her dying isn't your fault. No matter how much you blame yourself, you are not the reason Prim died. The assholes who robbed that gas station are to blame. The son of a bitch who pulled the trigger is to blame. The severed artery that let her bleed out before they got her to the hospital is to blame. You're not, no matter how you much you want to be."

Katniss' fists clenched until her knuckles were bone white, anger sending a wash of high color into her pale cheeks. "She stopped there because I asked her to. She was there because of me. Fuck you, Gale. You don't know what the hell you're talking about."

The two glared at each other with matching storm cloud eyes. "I know that your friends are scared. We don't know what to do. We don't know how to help you."

"I don't want nor need your fucking help," she spat furiously. "Get out. I don't want you here."

Gale pushed away from the table and stomped to the door, pausing to make a final plea. "Prim wouldn't want this for you, Katniss. It's like watching your mother back when we were kids. Tearing yourself apart won't bring her back. You're still alive. It's time to act like it."

"What do you know?" She folded up like a piece of paper, the fight going out of her. "When she died, so did I. I haven't laid down yet, that's all."

Unable to respond and unwilling to deepen the argument, Gale did the only thing he could. He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked away. "Don't forget the soup," he yelled before leaving the apartment.

It wasn't until the room filled with the smell of scorched vegetables and burnt meat that she stirred to turn off the stove. Dumping pot and all into the sink, she turned on the tap and watched as a white cloud of steam ascended toward the ceiling. Katniss then turned off the water and slid to the floor, her back propped up against the cabinets. She didn't move the rest of the night.

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Annie Cresta was the one person Katniss couldn't turn away, no matter how much she wanted to. If anybody was capable of understanding what she was going through, it was Annie. Her knock was unobtrusive, timid even, and right away, Katniss knew who was on the other side of the door. She hastily knotted her hair into some semblance of order before swinging the door open and letting Annie inside.

"I stopped by that bakery you like downtown," the wispy brunette announced as she brandished a couple of bags. "Got a couple of the specials. How about we have some lunch and a chat?"

A thin smile tugged at her lips, the first one Katniss could remember in ages. She joined Annie on the couch, her stomach growling furiously as she breathed in the aroma of fresh bread and roasted meat. "You didn't have to," Katniss protested as she peeled back white butcher's paper and took a hesitant bite much to Annie's delight. She carefully sat the sandwich aside and dug into the bag, a small sound of pleasure escaping her as she pulled out a small container filled to the brim with hearty potato salad. "How did you know?"

"I can't take all the credit," Annie confessed as she tucked into her own meal. "There was a lovely gentleman manning the register. When I mentioned your name, he said he had just the thing. He seemed to know what he was about so I didn't argue; instead, I told him to make it a double."

"Mr. Mellark," Katniss muttered around a mouthful. "He has a fantastic memory. Prim and I never have to order when we go in there." A shadow crossed her face as what she said registered. She put the bowl in her lap and blinked furiously, avoiding Annie's sympathetic look. "He's very sweet," she mumbled instead.

Annie's hand covered hers before slipping away. "He told me to tell you that it's been too long and he has a new cheese bun recipe. He won't put them out until his number one taste tester has given her approval." Katniss laughed brokenly, daubing at a few stray tears with her t-shirt hem. "If these are anything to go by, then people must be clamoring for the job, you lucky girl." Annie finished off her sandwich and tucked her trash into her discarded bag.

"We found it right after we moved here," Katniss confided. "We didn't know a soul. It just felt like home the minute we crossed the city limits. The bakery was our first stop because Prim wanted to get a cookie to celebrate. When Mr. Mellark heard, he gave us a whole bag and said to consider it our welcome basket. After that, it became part of our routine. We go at least once a week."

Annie nodded in understanding. "You should stop in. I think he'd really like that."

Katniss took a bite of her sandwich, chewing slowly as she considered. "I'll get over there soon." Her eyes lifted, meeting Annie's sea green ones squarely. "I promise." Her hand stretched across the cushions, meeting Annie's in the middle. "Thank you."

Annie squeezed her fingers reassuringly. "I know you will when you're ready. Take your time, Katniss. Move at your own pace." She scooped up her cavernous purse and rifled through it, mumbling to herself. "I have some other stuff here, stuff that helped me after. It's not much but I thought you might want to look at it, see if anything stood out."

Eying her cautiously, Katniss watched as Annie pulled out a sheaf of papers and a business card. Her brows lowered as she took them and glanced over the first few sheets. They were written in bullet point format with short, choppy sentences. How to deal with anxiety, healthy ways to cope with grief and loss, a beginner's guide to writing, hobbies to occupy your mind as well as your body, local support groups. Katniss immediately wadded the fliers up and handed them back. When Annie merely crossed her arms and looked at her silently, Katniss shook them for emphasis. "I don't need this stuff."

Ignoring the crumpled sheets being waved under her nose, Annie let out a breath before speaking. "I never said you did. I asked you to look at them to see if anything catches your eye. Pain doesn't go away, Katniss, you just make room for it. Some days, you'll be fine but there'll be others where you want to crawl in a closet and hide. If you give in, it takes ten times longer to put yourself back together."

"And this is supposed to stop me from giving in?" Katniss asked sardonically, shaking the pages for emphasis.

"Maybe and maybe not," Annie retorted. "It's two steps forward and five steps back. I think about Finnick every single day. Sometimes, I see him or even hear him. Sometimes, I even smell his cologne. I know he's not there but that doesn't make it feel any less real." She proffered the business card, holding it between thumb and forefinger until Katniss reluctantly took it. "Dr. Aurelius is easy to talk to, Katniss. He can help."

Had it been anyone but Annie, Katniss would have erupted. She didn't want or need to talk about her sister's death with some shrink. Her mother went to therapy for years, and even tried every half-baked self-help book that she came across but it didn't change a damned thing. Marie Everdeen buried her head in quicksand and left her girls to fend for themselves. Katniss learned to depend on nobody but herself, and to take care of Primrose. She had no intention of calling this Dr. Aurelius but somehow that didn't stop her from taking the card.

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It was morbid curiosity and being utterly sick of solitude that led her to unfurl the pages Annie left lying on the couch when she finally took off. Katniss ignored them, shoving them between cushions to get them out of her sight. By the fourth day, she'd taken them out at least fifty times before getting angry and shoving them right back where she'd found them. Telling herself she had nothing to lose by reading them, she finally broke down and retrieved them, smoothing out the wrinkles as she curled her legs beneath her.

"This is crazy," she mumbled as she scanned over the suggestions. "Smell something relaxing. Visualize something positive. Schedule silent time. Who the hell comes up with this stuff?" She tossed the first page aside. "Read a favorite book. Go for a walk. Tear up old newspapers." That one made her laugh. "Blow up balloons and then bust them. Keep a journal."

Katniss looked out the window thoughtfully. Go for a walk. That appealed to her. She hadn't left the apartment since the day of Prim's funeral. Some days, she hadn't left the bedroom. Maybe some fresh air would do her good. Her building was flanked by a small patch of woods. Local kids used them as a convenient short cut to a reservoir that was a popular swimming hole in summer. They'd cleared a bunch of winding paths through the trees that was ideal for what she had in mind. A nice quiet stroll sounded idyllic. Actually it sounded perfect .

"It's two for the price of one," she told herself as she tugged on a pair of well-worn boots after changing into jeans and a flannel button down. "Go for a walk and schedule silent time. That's gotta get me bonus points, yeah?" With the slightest bit of trepidation, she opened her front door. "Take it one step at a time, Katniss, one step at a time. Just go through the door." She clicked the lock and shut it behind her. "Now go down stairs. It's only three flights." Katniss chewed on her bottom lip, her hand lingering on the knob before she squared her shoulders determinedly and let it go.

Bit by bit, she kept at it until she was outside, across the yard, and at the edge of the tree line. The sky was a faded bruise tinged with honey-tipped orange when she arrived at the spot where the first path opened up. She glanced at the horizon, mentally calculating how long it would be until full dark. "It'll be okay," she spoke softly lest someone hear and be curious. "You've got plenty of time." She took a last look over her shoulder at the apartment building standing like a sentinel. "I'll be back later. Don't wait up." Laughing at her foolishness, she took off at a brisk pace.

Pines interspersed with maple and snowy barked birch flanked the narrow path, blotting out the sky in places. Shadows gathered like black velvet, piling up where the branches grew thickest. Leaves lost their edges, becoming tangled knots in the waning light. An owl hooted in the distance. Who? Who? Who? Leaves rustled underfoot, detritus of the past winter making up a thick carpet. The deeper she went, the more the outside world fell by the way. Knots loosened in her shoulders, her stride becoming loose and lazy as she relaxed her guard. She let her head fall back, a slight shift in the breeze playing with loose strands and tugging lightly at the tip of her braid.

It was almost full dark when the path widened unexpectedly and flowed into the short grass of a meadow. Katniss stopped, staring about in awe at its solemn beauty. It was a lopsided circle, bounded at its edges by thick boughed trees and ragged brush. She took a few more steps, neck craning like a doe as she darted looks about the clearing. The sky arched overhead, black shot through with silver as the stars ignited. She sat in the grass, leaning back on her palms as she hunted for the few constellations she knew from memory… Ursa Major, Ursa Minor, Cassiopeia. A fuzzy speck just above the treetops teased her until she remembered Andromeda, the Aethiopian princess rescued by Perseus instead of being sacrificed to a sea monster to appease the Gods .

"I'm coming back here," she vowed as she climbed gracefully to her feet. "Maybe tomorrow?"

Despite the darkness, she soon found her path and followed it home.

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The next night, she waited until dusk before heading out. On her back, she wore a small rucksack filled with a few snacks, a bottle of water, a small flashlight, and a printout of a rough star chart she'd downloaded from the internet. The walk wasn't as daunting as it had been the night before. Katniss moved confidently along the path, stopping every so often to look at an interesting plant or the shape of a particular branch against the darkening sky.

The meadow looked much as it had the night before, an empty expanse encompassed by a cathedral made of trees and sky. She found her spot and laid down, head pillowed on her backpack as she waited for the sun to fall off the edge of the world. The last fingers of light slowly faded, giving way to encroaching night. Fireflies flitted about, their bellies tiny green lanterns as they danced. She grinned when the first star appeared, fancifully imagining that she could hear a small pop as it broke through the surrounding black.

"Star light, star bright. First star I see tonight," she intoned. "I wish I may, wish I might have this wish I wish tonight." Closing her eyes, she kept the words to herself but sent the wish spinning out into the void. That done, she fumbled around until her fingers found her flashlight and her folded map. She clicked it on, glanced up to find a reference point, and then let her fingers trace the patterns she already knew. "I can find two new ones a night," she decided. "Two is good." She folded her map into a neat square. "These first and then I'll go on to others."

Ursa Minor or the Little Dipper was the easiest to mark as was the bent W which designated Cassiopeia. Katniss immediately found the peaked roof of Cepheus and the lopsided T of Camelopardalis. Satisfied that she would be able to pick them out, she turned off her flashlight and reclined once more.

The night came alive around her...bats swooping, crickets chirping, a fox yipping in the distance. Her old friend, the owl, queried irritably...who, who, who? A branch cracked followed by a muffled curse as someone yet unseen caught an unwary foot. Katniss froze, rolling quietly over on to her stomach as her eyes searched the darkness. A blacker-than-black shadow detached itself from the trees, a slender case held in one hand while the other made some sort of gesture back the way it had come.

She held her breath as it came to a stop, light flaring brightly in its hands, illuminating a strong jawed face and a stocky form. He unlimbered the case, hands moving effortlessly as he assembled a tripod and attached a slender tube. He adjusted the length of the legs before delicately twisting one silvery dials as he peered into a small scope mounted on the side of the larger cylinder. He made a frustrated noise before tapping the knob ever so slightly again. Whatever it did seemed to satisfy him because he straightened, let out a long slow exhale, and ran a hand through his already disheveled hair.

Mentally running through every epithet she'd ever heard, Katniss let her head rest on her pack as she mulled over her options. She was alone in the woods with a stranger just a few feet away. She had no phone, nothing to use as a weapon should she need one, and she'd told no one where she was going. Had she planned it, she couldn't have wandered into a worse situation. Her best bet was to stay low and hope that he wouldn't notice her. That thought didn't stop her from casually lifting her head so that she could watch her unexpected company.

His LED lantern was still on, although turned down low, allowing her to see the man's dim outline as he moved around the meadow. He left the telescope alone, and was instead concentrating on a wide pad resting on his bent knees. Forgetting herself, she raised up on her elbows to try to get a better look. He sat cross-legged, the book resting in his lap and the lantern set to the side so that it shed light on the page's blank surface. His hand moved swiftly, his pencil behaving almost as if it had a mind of its own. He paused every now and again to look up, eyes intent as they flicked back and forth from the drawing to the trees. After a few minutes, he laid the pad aside and stood up to look through the telescope again. He repeated this process too many times to count over the next hour.

Katniss watched, mesmerized by his fluid movements. There was a practiced ease about him that she found almost soothing. Her lids dipped, her hand cupping her cheek as she shifted her pack to a more comfortable position. She pulled her sweater more tightly around her, blinking a few times as exhaustion blurred her vision. The man found his seat once more and took up his sketchpad. She fell asleep to the sounds of crickets chirping and a pencil skating across a snowy landscape.


End file.
